Page 161 of Brainwashed
Also, now that I’m thinking about it, I haven’t seen Velle or Joy in a few days… Not that I see them too often, but they’re usually around.
I stuff aside my curiosities as we walk past the bar, through the side door that brings you out onto the stone patio. It’s a lovely little area, surrounded by trees and plants, lavishly furnished, complete with a grill and twinkly lights strung overhead.
I remember when I brought Felix through here to get to the mansion last night… the way his eyes lit up, his head bobbing all around to take in the scenery. I would love to bring him out here… Let him enjoy the setting and just relax.
I shake myself out of it. He’s aserial killer. He’s supposed to be inprison.
I spot Manuel Blanco right away, sitting slouched on one of the love seats with a glass of brown liquor in his hand. And I can tell right away that something is up with him.
His collar is undone, no tie, which is rare for him. His white hair is a bit disheveled and he has circles underneath his eyes. He looks stressed, and while he is sitting casually, ankle crossed over his knee, his foot is twitching as he stares into his glass, dark eyes zoned in on something that I’m guessing only he can see.
A memory flashes… Of the last time I saw him.When he slit that control room guard’s throat open…
I gulp as we move over to the other chairs, and Yari clears his throat, which gets Blanco’s attention. He glances up at us and forces a tight smile.
“Lem. Great to see you.” He gestures to the adjacent chair. “Have a seat. Kent, go fetch us some drinks, will you? Yari, my dear boy, I know you’ll have 1800 and soda. Lem, what would you like to drink?”
“I’m fine,” I rumble.
“He’ll have a Macallan.” Manuel ignores me. “In fact, bring the bottle. And my cigars, while you’re at it.”
Kent rushes off and I take a seat in the chair, eyeing Manuel carefully in my peripheral. Yari sits down on a seat across from where el jefe is sitting, pulling his phone back out to resume his rapid typing.
The Ivory’s gaze goes far away for a moment. He seems deep in some sort of distressed thought, which is odd, to say the least. This behavior is very different from his normally haughty overconfidence.
“How are things coming along?” he asks Yari. “With the recruiting?”
“We’ll make it work,” Yari answers. “It might take some time, you know, being that we’ll want to properly vet them and whatnot.”
Manuel nods. “I want the best of the best. No exceptions.”
“Of course,” Yari says, glancing up from his phone at Manuel. “Were you able to speak to Jonathan again, now that you’ve both cooled down—”
“No one is cooled down,” Manuel hisses. “And I’ll deal with him, don’t you worry.”
Yari’s brows zip. “I just mean that you were obviously upset. And Jonathan—”
“If you say his name to me again, I will smash you in the face with this glass.” Manuel speaks so calmly, if you weren’t listening to his words, you’d think he’s just casually chatting.
“Yes, sir,” Yari mutters, falling in line, though not quite fazed by the threat.
I assume being Manuel Blanco’s assistant, you probably get used to it.
Still, it doesn’t sit right with me. AndJonathan…Are they talking about Velle? Did something happen??
“Is everything alright?” I ask Manuel, not out of concern, but out of impatience. If he’s going to be acting like a baby over whatever personal shit he’s dealing with, then I’d rather just go back up to my room.
Back to Felix…
“It’s none of your concern,” Manuel says as Kent returns. He hands us each a drink, and Manuel a cigar, which he wastes no time lighting. “You are here, Lem, because we need to talk. About The Carver.”
He pauses to eye me vehemently… Maybe to see how I react to hearing what Felix is called? Who knows, but I remain still.
He takes a puff of his cigar, releasing the smoke and watching it swirl up into the air.
“It truly is a beautiful night,” The Ivory murmurs in between blowing smoke rings. “One of those nights when I’m quite grateful for the ability to spend time here… In my home.”
His eyes flit to mine and they sort of bore into me, that cavernous black holding such pressure inside it. Like coal being compressed into diamonds.
